Splaying, curling and twisting with no regard of leaving an evidence trail. Her moan sent a rush of blood down under and she tugged at my entangled me...ber. I responded by grunting into her supple bosom.“Maaarrrc,” she shrilled, “My momma’s gonna be home any minute… fuck. You gotta fuck me quick… ooh shit!”I sprung up from the couch and dropped my slacks in one motion. My dick thrashed any which way until she caught it and pecked the glossy, pink glans.“Mmmm, I’ma have to suck on this big boy. His upper lip staying stiff as bone as he beseeched and cursed me.火火火火Despite his admonishment, corporeal punishment, the urge remained. The desire to burn. To watch things burn.It grew stronger, even, and I would dream of fires more vividly, and planned and plotted to when I would be able to set fires again.And often I would ideate padlocking father in his office, gasoline to the double wooden doors and lighting his office on fire, thinking of him behind his colossal desk, his coughing and. We go visiting.”Whitworth stared at Jeff while slowly letting out a chuckle. “Great minds and all that...”“What?” Jeff returned, frowning.“Conners appears to have the same idea. Sit. A vid just came in with a note from the Sergeant to watch ASAP. I’ve scanned through part of it, but didn’t take time to watch the whole thing. Want to watch it with me?”“Damn straight,” the Prime said as he topped off their coffee.“The Sergeant said there were several short excerpts as well as some longer. " He looked around the room. "Now are you all ready to hear the story?"There was a resounding and impatient yes."Roger and Doris Thompson arrived at Heathrow at around eight o'clock in the morning Greenwich Mean Time on Friday the sixth of August 1971 with their tiny daughter Sharon Anne. They knew that everyone would be home because his father had told him over the phone that he would be taking a weeks paid leave from the factory while the fish and chip shop that David Trodd's parents now.